It’s been a while since I’ve occupied this space in this newspaper and for good reason. There has been a lapse of “field research” of which to write about.

My 2013-14 season will go down as the year that I deer hunted much, much less than I have in years past. Distractions and other projects kept me out of the woods, because time is precious and you can’t be two places at once.

That said, I did manage to sneak away last week to hunt at one of my favorite late season spots along the White River. After a long, cold, tundra-frozen winter, the thermometer in my truck was reading a balmy 70 degrees. My fear was that the sleeping giant, the bottomland mosquito, would awaken from its winter hibernation. Nothing worse than fighting mosquitos while you’re trying to enjoy an evening hunt.

After scouting a few areas, the freshest deer sign was on some well-used trails headed south to some crop fields. The deer typically bed along the river during the day then head to feed in the fields late in the afternoon. The key is trying to pick the right trail to hunt and for the deer to be moving during shooting hours. Both are a gamble, but that’s pretty much why they call it hunting.

Finding a tree to climb this time of year can be a difficult task, especially one that will help hide you from the eyes of a group of wary whitetails that would prefer to make it through the season without being killed. I always like to try to find a tree with another tree directly in front of it to help hide you while you attempt to draw your bow, should the opportunity present itself. The best I could do was a gnarly hickory tree that was sprouting limbs everywhere that had a big wild pecan tree adjacent to it.

The hickory tree was perfect for my climbing sticks and my wedge-lock, and I felt reasonably hidden if the approaching deer came down the trail to my left. Everything else was going to be a crapshoot. I took a deep breath and relaxed, knowing it would only be a matter of time until I saw my first deer. That’s the type of confidence you can have hunting these type spots and at this time of the year. There’s nothing like it.

Late-season hunting is great if you’re a deer hunter. Obviously, many bucks have dropped their antlers by the middle of February and you have to make sure you’re not shooting at one that has, but it’s a great time to shoot does.

I had someone ask me the other day if I thought shooting does this time of year was unethical? I knew what he was getting at, because most does have been bred back in November and December.

My response has always been the same. What’s the difference in shooting a doe in November and February? Nothing. If the deer herd needs a reduction in the number of does, then it’s unethical if you don’t shoot them in my opinion. Case closed.

The warm winter sun was bearing down on me, and I was thinking I should have applied a little 50 SPF before climbing my tree. The good news was that I’d not seen or heard a mosquito, which sort of surprised me. As the sun began to dip below the expanse of hackberry and pecans, the magic hour was fast approaching.

I had my video camera mounted to the left of my stand just in case some deer came down that trail. Recording a shot can be inviting trouble, especially for this time of year when there is no foliage and hiding in a tree is a risky proposition. But you have to try, because it’s no fun if you don’t.

Looking to my left I was a deer approaching, which got my heartbeat racing. The good news was that it was going to come between my tree and a slash of water, so it was green light time. I turned my video camera on and pointed it towards a shooting lane, then hit record. I could see two more deer behind this deer, and looking through my binoculars confirmed it was indeed a doe and not a buck that had dropped its antlers.

The deer stopped as if it sensed danger, but proceeded after just a few seconds. It walked behind the big pecan tree, and I drew my bow. It stopped directly in my shooting lane and I was telling myself to take my time, which is something I always tell myself but never actually do. This time, however, I took my time, aimed low and released. The lighted nock disappeared into the crease behind its shoulder, and I knew immediately that I’d be dragging a deer that evening. I watched her run off and fall, making it just 75 yards or so. Best news yet was that she was headed closer to the truck!

I was prepared to make it a double that evening, but never saw another deer during the last 45 minutes of daylight. I could hear deer crossing the sloughs in several places, but none made it my way during shooting hours. I was thankful that I’d been give the opportunity to see a deer, make a great shot, and recover the deer with ease.

There you go. I’ve written 1,000 words about a doe kill, something my friends would say that I’ve mastered over my many years of bowhunting. I’m just hoping I’ll be able to do this for a long, long time and that I’ll be able to write more about my “field research” next season.

David Mosesso is publisher of The Jonesboro Sun. Email comments to dmosesso@jonesborosun.com.